


what they grow beyond

by dancingwiththewind (highfaenyx)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Star Wars: The Last Jedi Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:14:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21733558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highfaenyx/pseuds/dancingwiththewind
Summary: Your cloak catches the gust of the wind, tangles your legs, and you look at this piece of cloth, once beige – a shade of ivory, actually, your teachers wore the same – which is now dirty brown; you could have thrown it away a long time ago.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	what they grow beyond

Your cloak catches the gust of the wind, tangles your legs, and you look at this piece of cloth, once beige – a shade of ivory, actually, your teachers wore the same – which is now dirty brown; you could have thrown it away a long time ago.

You have kept it instead – partially, because you didn’t have a lot of clothing in the first place: a deserted island is not exactly a tailor’s den.

Partially – because you think you deserve this.

You deserve this all: your cloak turning black, your hands forgetting the cold metal and buzzing sound of the lightsaber, your mind losing the grip on the force.

You stand on the cliff, and see the waves crushing against the peaky shores, and then, suddenly, you _feel_ again.

A girl.

Force-sensitive.

And a familiar presence in her hand.

At first, you hate her. Hate her for coming down here, in this little remote shelter (prison) you have built for yourself. Because the memories that you have tried so hard to push back into the darkest corner of your head are flooding back, all at once, and you are crumbling under their weight.

She is persistent, strong, stubborn - and reminds you of so many. You see bits of others in her gaze. Han’s recklessness, faith of Leia, loneliness of Ben; yes, she is lonely and yet strong, bitter and yet hopeful.

But most of all, you see _yourself,_ and that makes you despise her (yourself) even more.

You teach her, you like her, you are afraid of her, and you like even more for that.

You face the truth, _you had to_ , for once not a hero of your own story, but a folly, weak human caught in the swirl of fear, guilt and desperation.

_Failure is the hardest lesson to teach._

Well, you lived a life, you think; made your own pile of mistakes, won some of your wars and lost the rest.

You have failed, just like Qui-Gonn, Yoda, Obi-Wan and Anakin (well, at least you didn’t fuck up as royally as he did, that is a relief); but even though you have, you will not allow the history go all way round again. You have failed, together with Han and Leia - because you were heroes, and that path is thorny and painful for anyone who puts their shoes upon it. But what is your failure, really, in a grand scheme of things? What if it had been fated to be like this from the very beginning, what if everything that they did led to this moment of teaching it to Rey - and being a hero was a by-product, a mere step on the staircase of his destiny?

The thought is comforting, but your failure still burns you from inside.

You are only a human, after all.

_I am sorry, Ben._ No, you cannot change his path, for you have failed, but you can do something else.

You can do what you have always done, something you might be the best at: be a beacon of hope, the one your beloved sister carried all the way; be a trickster your best friend had once been.

Leia must be as exhausted as you, you suddenly think. Guilt washes over your heart, but this guilt is an old friend. _I am so sorry, my sister. You were always the stronger one._

_I am sorry, Han. I wish I could embark on just one more crazy adventure by your side, my brother._

And, all of a sudden, you realize - well, perhaps, you did deserve this all - but your cloak is not black, it is barely brown; your hands never forgot the grip on the saber base; and your mind – oh, your mind is as sharp as ever, always united with the Force.

You project yourself on Crait, _the effort would kill you_ , but death is just death, and you’ve seen enough not to be scared of it. You evade Ben’s angry strokes - _you deserve them_ \- not to fight, but to save, to give Rey and Leia more time - and disappear with a smirk on your face. You collapse onto the rocks, barely breathing, but you feel younger than you’ve felt in years.

And as you, Luke Skywalker, a legend among the people of the galaxy, who had once saved it, and once – doomed, look at the sunset on Anch-To, you smile.

The Resistance lives.

The girl and the boy will save each other.

There will be balance.

Perhaps, you hadn’t been the last Jedi, but _your_ ways of the Jedi have ended, and you are grateful for it. You had played his part in this grand scheme of the deity they call Force, and now you feel its call.

You look at the two suns on the horizon – just like when you were barely a boy on Tatooine, and thinks, _Han, Obi-Wan, Yoda, Anakin, Padme, I am home. I am one with the Force – finally_.

The white cloak is left lying on the stone, and gets carried away by wind.

**Author's Note:**

> I love Luke. May the Force be with you!
> 
> Kudos and comments are welcome ;)


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